Saturday Scaredy-Cats November 10, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 10commentsI don’t want to go to the outside world today. I want to stay in my warm, comfy bubble. I want to write. I really want to write. Instead, I am going to Folkestone. That, in itself, would not be a bad thing. The trouble is that I do not actually know where Folkestone is. On the edge somewhere, I think.
Reader, if you never hear from me again, I will have died in a sea of sardine sarnies, surrounded by warbling sopranos. Your worst nightmare too, eh? What a curious coincidence.
A few weeks ago, I was looking forward to this day of musical adventure, the thrill of meeting new people. Musician-y people. But now I’m all twitchy. I don’t really like meeting new people. People are quite scary. Horrid too, sometimes. I suspect that there will be no giggling foray to the pub for lunch. Instead, there will be ‘church tea’, watered down so as not to overexcite anyone. I will be the only one who has not taken a packed lunch and will have to share someone’s sandwiches. The sandwiches will contain margarine and pilchards and Spam but I will not realise this until they are refusing to go down the hatch. They will get stuck in my teeth and get blown around the room when I play my flute. Oh dear.
I wish I could be more oomphy. I wish I could grab the initial excitement that fills me at the prospect of doing new stuff. Instead, my stomach is churning as I just know that I’ll get lost on the way, rush in late, drop my music so that it’s all shuffled up and thus play the wrong piece at the wrong time. People will notice that I’m a spaz and my face will go all red.
Sigh.
The dog has decided that he will accompany me on this musical mission. He is quite proficient on the bassoon. He has been all along, apparently, I just never thought to ask him. I’m so crap. Who needs the outside world when they’ve got a bassoon-playing pooch anyway?
